The One Who Saw
by Here2Say
Summary: I saw them, and I'll never tell.
1. Chapter 1

I sat alone in my room reading from _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_ under my bed sheets. Before me lay _The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, _and various other missions in that galaxy far, far away. I pretty much had to hide this way. Nobody understood why I got so into books like those. _Why don't you join the real world? _or _Get your nose out of that garbage and start earning for yourself. They're just words._ They weren't just words to me. They were my dreams; places I could go that didn't have the same old dreary people that criticized every move you made. With these characters I could get out of this crummy town for 200+ pages and not be Edward Coulson for a few hours. I could be Aragorn slaying orcs, or Han Solo escaping the sarlac pit with Chewbacca and Luke. I had the chance to be anybody great so that I could be… not me.

Mom didn't get it either. She said that these 'stories' weren't real. That I needed to grow up and accept reality. Well, maybe not here, but somewhere they were real. Somewhere out there in a place like this there was a hobbit smoking a pipe on his front stoop talking to a wizard. Somewhere out there was a ten year old boy building a service droid to help his mom around the house. Somewhere out there was somebody with a more interesting life than mine.

Being twelve in this corner of town meant nothing ever happened. Sure, every second Saturday of every month Danny's farm threw a party with some dancing and a buffet. Usually, the grownups would sit us kids on a haystack during the slow songs; Blake Shelton, Marina McBride, and so on would be playing on the radio; and there'd be games like hackey-sack golf. And at the end of the evening everyone would get a sparkler stick and Joe Barton made s'mores. But other than that and the occasional quilt auctions at the local library nothing interesting made a cameo.

So I would take to the woods, mostly during the day. A flashlight does a lot of good in the dark, but animals have night vision built in and I didn't. So I kept my night visits to a minimum. Only when mom needed something from Mrs. Nance; our neighbor; did I make the night trek to go get whatever Mom wanted me to get. I fancied myself as a fair woodsman, although not as great as Davey Crocket or Daniel Boone, but I figured I could hold my own.

I had to come out from the covers. My breath being stifled by the sheets was nearly suffocating me. My knees ached from sitting in one position for so long and my back raged when I stretched it in the opposite direction it had grown accustomed to. Marking the page where I had left Sawyer in the court room on the witness stand, I swung sideways and put my feet on the floor. I'd come back to it later. Right then, there needed to be blood flow which I had denied myself for a 'few' chapters.

Out my bedroom window I could see something, a tiny flame through the trees. _Campfire._ People camped all the time around here, I've stumbled up on a few setting up shop a time or two so initially I didn't think nothing of it, until I realized where the fire was coming from. The fire was oddly close to an old farm house that had been abandoned since its owner passed away almost twenty years earlier. It wasn't uncommon for people to camp near abandoned buildings, but no one camped near that place purely out of respect. The last owner, an old lady, wanted the land kept as it was for her grandchildren who never came around anymore. At least not that I could remember seeing or being told of.

Suddenly, my young, naïve mind decided, _I've got to investigate. It could be poachers._ Honestly, I'm not sure what I thought I was going to do if it was poachers. But, that didn't matter I guess because I grabbed my boots, jacket, flashlight, and my hunting knife and quietly slipped out my window. Unfortunately, my room was situated on the second floor. Fortunately, my window was above the porch roof which had a very handy woodpile next to it. It was tricky not to make any noise but somehow I finagled my footing so that when I jumped I practically floated down the wood stacks like stairs, crumpling silently onto the grass after losing my balance.

Getting up I turned myself in every direction, making certain I wasn't seen or heard. Then, setting my feet due south west I slipped through the dark like a great, unknown hunter; undetectable or traceable; (at least, I imagined myself to be) towards the old Jones farm.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the severe delay. I won't waste time with excuses on why I didn't post because there really is no good one. But I hope you enjoy the addition and please review. Thanks!

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My time spent in the woods was starting to pay off. I knew where the soft ground was and what patch would likely have a loud twig jumbled into its frays. However, as I got further away from home and drew closer to the old Jones farm, I became less certain and had to move with less speed. The farm was about three and a half miles away. I knew the creek ran past it so, _They must be set up near the water. _I held my knife ready in case I had any unwanted interactions.

Soft breezes wafted the scent of the mountain spring past my nose. The creek was nearby, and growing steadily louder. The mud became thicker the closer I got to the bank. I wished that there was a moon to light my way, but not a cloud would yield to my hopes. Everything around me sighed lightly as the night pressed forward. The darkness shushed every sound, almost rocking the world to sleep with gentle whispers from the wind. I slowed my step to listen to the nothing. As calming as it was, it was very eerie. If it weren't for the creek I would have sworn that I had gone deaf. Realizing I had stopped walking, I searched through the trees for the campfire, hoping I had not wandered off course. I had; but not by far. The light shone further to my right than I had planned. I knew that on ahead was a bend in the creek which would take me directly to their location, unhidden of course, if I only followed it; but being hidden was the point until I knew more about them.

Suddenly, my ears caught sounds coming across the water along with soft footfalls followed by rustling bushes and forest overgrowth. I knew what such calls belonged to: _Coyotes._ I couldn't see them but the water splashed and quaked repetitively alerting me that they had crossed over too close to my position for comfort. I didn't think. I didn't do anything, but panic.

Running as fast as my feet would go I rushed away from the creek and into the trees. Suddenly the peaceful quiet from moments ago was vastly overshadowed by the various yips and howls crashing in from every direction. Limbs of trees and bushes grabbed at my clothing and pack, slowing me for my adversaries. Percussions of their cries came close from my right quickly changing my course left. Only to have more rush in from the new direction. At every turn the trees became more condensed. At every turn, I became more lost.

As I ran, my blood quickened and my head cleared. Almost too late my mind focused in on one sure thought: _They're herding me!_ Quickly, I slid to a stop in a small clearing encircled by mostly young saplings. A few of them were tall and strong. I could hear the coyotes everywhere now. _Come on, Ed. Think!_ Looking around desperately there was only one thing I could think to do. Climb the trees. If they lost my scent from the air then maybe I could get away. Mercifully, the moon deigned to show itself enough to illuminate a younger pine that could make the difference. As I headed toward the pine a flash of fur and wind blew between me and my only hope. A musty, dirt smell filled my nose while barks and growls filled my ears. They encircled me and pushed me away from the safety of my tree.

The moonlight was fading fast. Soon I wouldn't be able to see my quarry nor my escape route. Dogs rushed me, snapping at my legs and arms. I kicked one in the side as I dodged another whose teeth barely missed my fingers by a breath. But as I stepped backward towards hope, another came from behind and sank his teeth into my sleeve at my forearm. I fell forward to my knees. Three others swooped in at my side. Two of them grabbed my pack. I saw the third charging and knew he would land his mark. The first held close onto my arm. It did not try to tear or rip; its job was to hold me for the rest. I knew escape would be a far stretch.

Closing my eyes I braced for the impact but it never came. At least not how it should have. The wild dog caught itself on a root, tripping and crashed into the two on my pack. Yelping in surprise they released me as they fell to the ground. The jolt also loosed the first's jaws enough I could shake him off and bolt for the pine. As I heaved myself higher a pair of canines clamped down on the heel of my boot. Its teeth held tight to my foot, sinking deep into the rubber sole. Luckily, I had been able to grab hold to a fairly sturdy albeit thin branch before the dog's thrashing head could throw me off balance and drag me to my doom.

Wiggling my foot inside, I kicked the boot off. The dog thrashed its head before throwing it to the side. They circled the tree for many minutes until finally they snarled once more, then scampered off snapping at the one who unintentionally freed their supper. (Luckily for me, that one was either young or stupid.) I don't know how long I waited, but I sat frozen on the limb with my nails digging into my palms.

Slowly the woods grew silent all around me again. The coyotes had been gone now for at least twenty minutes but still I dared not move. I remembered how in Jurassic Park the velociraptors set a trap by appearing to have left. _Nope, I think I'll stay right here._ Another ten minutes passed before I heard a percussion of yips and howls. The echo was clear but their howls were far off. I guessed they had moved up into the hills a couple miles away. Unsure, but still determined to find out about that light I mustered up enough gumption to ease myself to the lower branches.

My foot had just settled in a crook of thinner limbs when my grip slipped, sending me flailing backwards to a pool of mud. The mud sloshed its way into my hair and covered my backside up one way and down the other. I could feel it soaking into my pants. Thankfully my jacket was waterproof. There was no howling or barking in the distance. The coyotes must not have heard, or cared to find out. But I lay perfectly still for a few moments anyway, forgetting to breath after holding it to listen better. The mud was soaking through to my skin now and I had no idea which way was what at this angle.

Hoisting myself out of the soggy mess I began to reach for a hand-hold when I heard a new sound. It was a low, repetitive hum. Then it stopped. Frozen, I darted my eyes around my sockets determined to find the sound before it decided if I looked tasty. The wind blew suddenly past my ear, so soft it was almost not there. The leaves rustled slightly, although it was just enough that I almost missed the sound. This time it grew louder as it got closer until I realized that it was a human sound. Laughter, maybe?

"Wow, ye sure weren't born in the woods, were ye? Heh- he he." Again that sound, along with a thick accent I had never heard before. This time coming from directly above me, in the branches where I was only moments ago perched.


End file.
